Leaves From the Vine
by oh-the-linsanity
Summary: "Have you realized that one day you'll be reincarnated back into our family?" "Yes, I have." Korra is the Avatar: she's lived hundreds of lives and she'll live hundreds more. But Jinora just has one. (Jinora/Korra friendship)


Leaves From the Vine

.

The thought never really left her.

She remembered the first time she realized it. It was a cloudy afternoon, grey stretching and pulling over clumps of black clouds that swarmed the horizon. She sat under a tree, content with letting the leaves above her catch the heavy raindrops, leaving her only slightly drizzled in the afternoon storm. She didn't have a book, unwilling to sacrifice the pages to nature and instead watched as Korra ran wildly about with her siblings. Bolin had joined the mess too, and Jinora watched with a wiry grin as Korra bent the rain around her, creating temporary umbrellas and pulling waterfalls out of thin air to drench her already soaked brothers and sister. Rohan was six now, and even though Meelo and Ikki were older, they still acted the same as they always did.

Like children.

The same went for Korra.

Mako eventually came by and sat next to her, wringing his scarf out. "Your wife is crazy," Jinora commented. Bolin tackled Ikki and sent her sprawling in the mud. She airbended the mud away, the excess knotting in Korra's hair and smearing Meelo's newly acquired arrows.

"I know," Mako smiled fondly. "And I'm afraid it's rubbed off on me," he said before he grabbed sixteen year old Jinora by the collar and threw her into the mix.

Jinora remembered the taste of mud in her mouth and the slimy feeling of it slithering between her fingers. She recalled the cold rain blanketing her like a layer of new skin and the smell of summer sizzling from the grass.

But most of all Jinora remembered being tackled to the ground, Korra's arms wrapped tightly around her as she laughed, rain dripping from her cheeks and mud rimming her nostrils as she looked at her with the same child-like wonder she suspected she'd have her entire life.

She saw wisps of grey in her blue eyes and she remembered that Korra would never leave her.

Not really.

.

Not to Jinora's surprise, it was Ikki who voiced the entire thing.

They were at the dinner table, eating dessert. Jinora reached over to gently pull the pastry from Rohan's mouth before he stuffed the entire thing in his mouth and choked. Korra and Bolin were kicking each other under the table, Mako leaning in to whisper strategies in her ear. Ikki and Meelo were running their mouths, as usual, and that's when she turned to Korra, and said,

"Have you realized that one day, you'll be reincarnated back into our family?"

Everyone froze.

Food from Meelo's spoon fell from his spoon and dripped on the table; Pabu came slithering up to lap it up. Rohan dropped the pastry and Pema looked on, nervous.

Jinroa watched as Korra's eyes softened.

"Yes," she said gently. "I have."

Things went back to normal after that.

.

When Jinora turned twenty-five, she moved off of Air Temple Island.

Her father wasn't pleased. But she explained to him she was only moving into the city, closer to her job as the new council member and where she could keep a close eye on the construction of the new and budding Republic City University.

She was a part time professor of history, teaching classes mainly on the history of air nomads. The classes were always full and diverse, to her surprise. But one student caught her eye in particular.

His hair was long and his clothes were messy. He wore the same hat to class everyday and despite his aloof appearance and care-free attitude, he consistently made the best marks in her class.

So one day, after handing back graded papers on the art of airbending tattoos, he came up to her and placed a flower on her desk.

She eyed it briefly while she packed her stuff. "Helianthus" she commented.

The young man scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm not a botany student. So, what you said."

She allowed a small smile and twirled the sunflower in her hands—some of the petals were browning on the edges. "Your paper was very good, Mr—"

"Skoochy."

.

"Ooh, you _like _him!"

From the kitchen Mako rolled his eyes before continuing to stir the food. "Korra, leave her alone."

Jinora swatted Korra's teasing hands away. She continued to sit as properly as she could at the table, but Korra leaned back in the chair, her feet propped up—Jinora saw mud in the tracks of her boots. Mako had already scolded her twice, but it had fallen on deaf ears. "Yeah, what are you, Ikki?" Jinora mumbled, embarrassed.

Korra leaned up. "Mako just doesn't want you to get a boyfriend."

"She's too young!" Mako called.

"She's twenty-five!" Korra yelled back. "We got married when I was _twenty, _or did you forget?"

Both girls heard incoherent mumbling as Mako poured hot soup into three bowls. When he sat the bowl in front of Jinora, a playful smirk grew on her lips. "Besides, I'm well aware you guys had sex _way _before you were married."

Mako blushed. "Korra!"

"What, what'd I do?"

The sun was setting and the afternoon thunderstorms were rolling away, striking the sky a bright and sickly yellow—the light pooled in through the translucent curtains of Mako and Korra's apartment and tinted her blue arrows on the back of her hands a shade of green. The three of them continued to talk about their lives, Mako making consistent efforts to keep the topics away from his sex life. But eventually, Mako left to clean the dishes, leaving the two family friends alone in the den. The sun had long set but the sky was bright with a full moon—stars poked through scattered clouds and when Korra leaned in, that same damn child-like smile on her face, Jinora was pretty sure she saw stars in her eyes too.

"Go for it, kid," she whispered. "You deserve someone who's going to love you."

She smiled, deciding to take her advice.

Korra had never let her down.

Not yet.

.

He asked her on a date, and she said yes.

It was at the yearly carnival, celebrating peace among benders and non-benders. There were games and concerts and lots of food. She remembered childish bets and winning every game because he let her and right from the start she burned her tongue on some Fire Flakes. But that's when he told her he could kiss it better.

And to some extent, he did.

The night was a blur of drinks and fun. She remembered stumbling across Korra, drunk as a skunk, with Mako, only a little more sober than she. Korra began telling them of this "big finale" she had planned that would make her and Skoochy's date special before she ran off, Mako right behind her.

That night, she saw the most beautiful display of sparking lights, ones that flew in the air and exploded with cracks and pops, littering Yue bay in glitter and fire. They were like stars, but closer, creating shapes and stories like constellations before the scattered, getting smaller and smaller until they were faint embers that dotted the horizon and waters. Skoochy leaned into her, his lips warm against her cheek and whispered,

"Those are called fireworks. Did you like them?"

She nodded.

But it was only four hours later, when Jinora stumbled tired and sleep deprived into the police station did she realize they were _illegal._

Korra looked at her through metal bars, a sheepish smile on her face. Mako was in the cell next to her, sound asleep. She held up her hands, covered in burns that were already scabbed and blistered. The avatar chuckled nervously. "I really shouldn't have done that under the influence of Cactus Juice," she admitted. She pointed an accusing finger at the young airbender. "Which, _by the way, _is illegal too! Sheesh! You should fix that. No fireworks, no cactus juice…how _else _were we supposed to have fun?"

Mako groaned, rolling around in his cot. "That is the _last _time I leave my drink in _your _hands, Korra," he mumbled. "You'd think I'd learn by now."

Jinora couldn't help it—she laughed. "You spiked his drink?" she cried.

Korra didn't look phased. "Oh, huh? Oh, yeah, I always do that."

"Every. Year." Mako emphasized.

Jinora turned to the approaching police officer, who upon seeing her councilman robes and weary expression, deemed it appropriate to release the Avatar and her husband in her care.

Korra carefully massaged her wrists, avoiding the burns. Jinora noticed faint and small bruise speckling her skin up to her elbow. She picked up on Jinora's staring. "Don't worry about that—I'll heal in no time. The important thing is…how'd you like the fireworks?" she beamed.

Jinora recalled the sparkles, the shapes, the kiss she shared under the moonlight. "They were amazing," she tackled Korra into a hug. "Thank you."

She kissed Jinora's cheek. "You're welcome."

The three of them walked sleepily out of the station and back to their houses. She still noticed Korra's wide and dilated pupils and laughed. "You know, you can blame Sokka for the cactus juice ban."

Korra laughed. "Oh, yeah—Katara told me about those stories. He always got crazy when he drank it."

Jinora smiled. "He did, but—he isn't the reason it's banned. He imported it—but Aang was the one who drank it and caused the ban."

"Oh, haha—wait, Aang did _what."_

Mako snorted. "_Avatars."_

_._

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and months turned unto years.

And for three years, Jinora and Skoochy held.

They did a lot together—walks in the parks, late night dinners, silent movies. He taught her how to play cards and she taught him calligraphy and for a while, she thought they could be something beautiful.

But then her pretty little picture of them shattered and the pieces cut her heart.

"Jinora, this is Akira. She's an earthbender, and she recently moved to town a few months back…"

Silence.

"Jinora—Akira is pregnant."

She felt her heart bleed.

"…I'm the father."

She stared at him, eyes narrowed. The girl was pretty, with bright green eyes and pale skin and not a freckle in sight. Akira's nose was perfect because she didn't break it when she was thirteen and she didn't have ugly scars marring her collarbone from an airbending move gone wrong.

Jinora didn't know what came over her. She leaned in, remembering something he told her a long time ago.

_"Don't let anyone bring you down, kitten! Give them what they deserve!"_

She spat in his face.

"You deserved it," she seethed, before turning abruptly on her heel and dashing away.

Akira clung to his arm. He wiped his face clean. "That, I did," he murmured.

.

Korra rubbed the back of her back soothingly. "It's okay—let it out."

She looked up at Korra through burred vision. Even though the lights in the apartment were dim, she saw the changes in Korra—her eyes were hallow, deep violet circles around the rims. Her skin looked unhealthy and sickly; there seemed to be a constant pale glint to it all. Her muscles looked smaller and her frame looked thinner and there were green and purple bruises peaking out from the tops of her armbands.

Jinora reached out to touch the Avatar's arm. "Korra?" she said softly.

Korra gently moved her hand away. "Don't worry about, kid. Don't you worry."

She continued to whisper reassuring words of wisdom in her ear, words Jinora never knew she had. Korra told her stories of happily ever after's and second chances and she made her believe she'd be all right.

When she got up to leave, late and in the middle of the night, Korra walked her to the door and Jinora looked her over.

The young airbender was so lost in her own world, her own love life, she didn't notice how Korra herself was falling apart, how sick she looked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Korra smiled sadly. "I will be, I promise."

That was good enough for Jinora. Korra had never broken a promise.

But three hours later, and a worried phone call from Mako later, she realized that Korra was also an excellent liar.

.

Katara was long gone—she couldn't help them. Mako called the best healers in the world, and they came as fast as they could—but the diagnosis was all the same.

It was the first time Jinora had ever seen Mako cry.

When she was given permission, Jinora slipped into Korra's hospital, a bouquet of every blue flower she could think off in her hand. She set it on the bedside table and dashed to the window, ripping the curtains open. She frowned.

The sky was grey.

"Hey, Jin," a croaky voice called for her. Jinroa whipped around.

Her heart broke a little more.

She trudged to the bed slowly, gripping her IV injected hand gently. "Hey, Kor." She parroted back.

Korra tried to suppress her cough. "So, what's the damage?"

"Korra, please, don't—"

"Just say it."

It feels like an eternity, a passage of time that outlasts even all her past lives before she manages to choke out, "It's fatal."

"Hey," Korra started, her voice a faint shadow of what it once was. "Did I ever tell you the secrets of taming a polar bear dog?"

Jinroa breathed in shakily, feeling hot tears slip down her cheeks. "No, but—"

"Don't fight it. You have to surrender before it begins—otherwise you can get hurt."

Outside, the clouds came flying by in darker shades of grey. "Sounds like the easy way out," Jinora commented, stretching her arms to tuck the blankets and sheets around Korra.

Silence.

"No," Korra finally whispered on labored breath. "It never is."

Jinora bawled.

.

The funeral was _gorgeous._

She remembered going around and grabbing onto hands. She memorized the feeling, the touch. Mako's were slender and knobby, like hers, and without the gloves, were laced with red and pink scars that ran up his wrists.

Bolin's were meaty and sweaty, but his grip was tight and she thought if she asked him, he'd never let go.

Her siblings' were feathery and light, the touch soft as wind; something that was brief, but in the end, it always returned.

Asami's was small and dainty, soft and gentle. Her nails were painted a bright blue and when she held her hand, she felt tears seep through the spaces in between.

There were a lot of other parts of the funeral, but Jinora didn't like to remember.

After all, Korra wasn't really gone.

She'd be back.

…Kinda.

.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and when they all became years Jinora cried because while she waited for the _avatar _to return, _Korra _was gone.

And that hurt.

.

She was enjoying a cup of tea with Rohan, discussing the lasted council meeting when a knock sounded on her door. She was slow to answer it, laughter and written on her face but when she opened the door.

Her smile fell.

He stood there, shuffling nervously. Beside him, a familiar little woman with bright green eyes pushed a smile child with matching nose and hair in front of her.

Jinora stared at the little family. "What do you want?"

Skoochy sighed. "I'm sorry… but I'm here because—because _he _has something _you _want."

The little boy bounded up to her, pulling on her nomad robes harshly. "Check this out Arrow Lady!" He pulled out a little set of marbles. He blew on his open palm and sent them spiraling in the air, levitating them for several seconds.

"See! I'm just like you!"

Jinora's jaw fell. "_Rohan!" _she screeched and her brother came bounding into the room.

"What, what is—_oh."_

The four adults stood in silence.

The Avatar had returned.

.

When the time came, she taught him airbending.

They had named him Lee and she thought that unoriginal. He was much like Tenzin, quiet and levelheaded. He was very indecisive and learning airbending came to him fairly easily. Bolin and Mako taught him firebending and earthbending. But Jinora saw the pain in their eyes—the came ready to teach him with hopes that they would see the Korra they once knew and love. And technically, yes, it was her, but they soon realized it simply wasn't the same.

They taught him, and went back to their lives.

Jinora didn't blame them.

As the years passed, he wasn't the one that grew. Jinora eventually married and had a family; the same went for Ikki and her other siblings. She lived a quiet life with a husband who adored her and children who behaved. One of them wanted nothing more to grow up like her, and one of them was wild and crazy and even though she had a right to blame Meelo.

Her daughter only reminded her of Korra.

Lee grew up to fulfill his Avatar duties as destined. He quenched threats, kept peace, and was a competent man. He visited her not often, but enough. He was kind to his old master. Everything seemed like it would be easy for Lee.

Until, of course it wasn't.

He was 30 when he visited Jinora one last time before he left, ready to settle the uprisings in the far off Earth Kingdom. "Master Jinora, I'm leaving." He bowed. "I'm here to thank you for everything you've done for me."

Jinora returned the bow. "Be safe, Lee."

"I will."

.

Lee never came back.

.

A few years passed. Jinora noticed her hair going grey, her brothers' beards getting longer and the world changing before her eyes. Her parents had long passed and at the age of 60, Jinora decided it was time for a change in scenery. She packed up her suitcases, handed her job to another, and left the city, her family in tow.

She traveled the Earth Kingdom first. There were rolling hills, green grass, and the Earth just seemed longer. She went to the old Air Temples, each a little different, a test of time and adaptation. She flew right past the Water Tribes. The air was too crisp there, the people all too alike, with blue eyes and mocha eyes. But most of all, the feeling of snow melting in her hands felt a lot like mud and rain.

It hurt too much.

Jinora stayed in he Fire Nation awhile. She met up with the Royal family and talked diplomacy and tea, among other things. Ten years had passed without seeing much of her siblings, and nothing of her home, when a Fire Nation advisor knocked on her door, a small boy by his side.

The advisor didn't even have to open his mouth. The boy had fair skin, black hair and a toothy grin that reminded her of Meelo. But the one thing that stood out the most was the boy's eyes—golden, like any firebender, with smoky flecks lost within. The colors moved like soft ocean waves, gleaming when he smiled up at her.

"I'm—!"

Jinora laid a wrinkly hand on his shoulder. "I know who you are. Come in."

.

His name was Takumi. Unlike Lee, he was more vibrant. He walked as if painting the world with his footsteps. He was very bright, very creative, but lacked attention, as she soon discovered with his studies.

She handed him a cup of tea. "Try not to gulp it down like last time," she warned.

He nodded, but ended up doing so anyway. He tried concentrating on the book in front of him, but eventually, the silence was too much. He dropped the book, looking up at his teacher with a frown. "Master Jinora, why can't you just tell me the history of the Avatars?"

She took a sip of her own tea. "Afraid an old lady like me can't remember," she teased. Takumi giggled, rolling around on the floor before settling at her feet, looking up at her with great curiosity. Jinora titled her head, trying to match his silly expression. "Why are you looking at me like that, kid?"

A shrug. "I dunno."

Jinora grumbled, a smile tugging on her wrinkled face. "You'd think I'd have taught enough Avatars by now…" she mumbled under her breath. "Why not my brothers for a teacher hmmm? At least they're still at Air Temple Island…"

"They told me you were the oldest Airbending Master alive," Takumi explained, obviously overhearing. The kid had good ears as well. "They said you'd already helped two avatars! They said I should try and find someone else with your family," he stuck his tongue between his teeth, thinking. "They said that'd be better, that it would be easier, but…" He looked back up at her, eyes piercing hers. "Something told me that I should ask you to be my master. Even if it was harder."

Jinora felt the teacup in her hand shake. "…why?"

"I mean," he reached for his history book. "You were Avatar Aang's granddaughter. And you helped Avatar Korra stop the revolution! And taught Avatar Lee and I thought.."

he flashed her a bright smile.

"You must be important."

Jinora smiled.

.

Everyone got older.

Jinora's hair went from grey to white. She became a grandmother. Her siblings children grew as well and more and more, it truly felt like the airbenders were coming back.

_"Have you realized that one day, you'll be reincarnated back into our family?"_

Jinora never forgot.

But Takumi was like Korra in many ways: rambunctious and loud, creative and different. He clung to more modern styles of fighting, despite his teachings. He was more like an average-strengthened person than the almighty Avatar, at times. But Jinora hoped it wouldn't matter. She hoped the world would remain stable and in peace. She didn't want Takumi to struggle.

But the beginnings of yet another war sprouted across the globe when Takumi was just twenty years old.

"I'll be fine!" Takumi laughed, holding his aging master's hand. "I'm going to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand."

Jinora tried to smile, but it was hard. "Takumi, you must understand. You are the world's hope for peace and balance. If kind words and gentle promises don't work, don't be afraid to use force. The world can't plunge into darkness waiting for the next fully realized Avatar to come. Fight at whatever cost."

Takumi's smile was tight, but still there. "Don't worry, I can do it. There's so much in this world that's worth living for—once they're reminded the fighting will stop."

"I hope you're right. But I pray, don't forget your strength."

"I won't. Thank you, Master Jinora. For everything."

After he left, Jinora went back to her tea. An opened letter from Ikki lay strewn across her kitchen countertop.

_My granddaughter is about to give birth._

_—Ikki_

Jinora cried.

.

two weeks later, Avatar Takumi died.

Jinora cried because along the way of waiting to see Korra live again, to truly be a part of her family, she loved all the Avatars the same.

She cried because she lost Takumi.

And that hurt.

.

Tired and weary, Jinora returned to air temple island.

She was old. She was old and tired and she wanted nothing more than to sleep. But her family and friends welcomed her back to the temple, and she was glad that Republic City didn't change her home, not really.

That night, she had a lovely meal with her siblings. She saw her nieces and nephews and the little newborn that had been the talk of the city.

"Is she…?"

"Yes. She is."

They handed the baby to Jinora. The baby was soft and squishy, her smooth skin a stark contrast to the wrinkles in the hands that held her.

"What's her name?" Jinora asked quietly, rocking the child back and forth.

"Jinora." Her mother said proud. "She'll be Avatar Jinora."

The baby was sleeping, quiet and calm but once she stirred, eyes fluttering open slowly, Jinora gasped.

The baby looked at her with the same child-like wonder Jinora suspected she'd have her entire life.

She saw wisps of grey in her blue eyes and she remembered that Korra never left her.

Not really.

.

AN: I'm in the process of putting a lot of my works from tumblr on here for folks who still haven't found me yet! I wrote this one long ago, and I hope you enjoy. Don't forget to tell me how you think! Stay flamin', my lovelies.

-Lynn


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